Broken
by Cassandraishere
Summary: Katniss makes a mistake, a horrible mistake that will cost her what is most precious to her, Peeta. Modern day AU! My first Modern day! Just check it out! Please?
1. Chapter 1

**I'm not really planning on continuing this, unless I get some positive responses I guess? I don't know where I would go from here anyways, but I HAD to write it, it had been nagging me all day. By the way I'm a Katniss + Peeta person so yeah!**

Things were difficult. No, let me rephrase that, I had made things difficult. I had made things insufferable. No wonder he's been gone for so long. The tension in this house was almost visible. One wrong move and someone would start yelling.

And it was my entire fault.

He had been kind to me, understanding beyond comprehension, patient, loving. Of course I had repaid him with sourness. I had failed him, I had betrayed him.

I wouldn't be surprised if he never forgave me.

Peeta had been gone for almost one whole day now. There was no possible way for me to know where he was, or what he was doing. He had just put his jacket on and left, maybe he'd finally had enough of me. I can't blame him, not after what I had revealed to him. Not after what I had done to him.

Seconds before he marched out of the house I had said it. The only words that could possibly rip his heart out and kill any affection he had for me.

I still can't believe I had actually done what I did.

I sit on the stairway, a hot mug of tea scalding my fingers as I stare at the door. I do not dare set the cup down. This is my punishment, I deserve the pain. I deserve to be thrown into a dark pit of fire with all my worst nightmares for the rest of eternity. I deserve to be yelled at, I deserve to be hated.

I deserve whatever it is Peeta is going to say to me when he returns.

Yet he doesn't. The moon appears and the tea grows cold. There is no familiar sound of his uneven footsteps, there is no jiggling of the doorknob, there is no glow of his golden hair, or his familiar breathing. There's nothing but me, in an empty house, only Katniss and her demons, only Katniss and her unforgivable behavior.

Maybe this is all there is left.

Maybe this is all that _should_ be left.

I stay on the stairs, I don't move. The mug stays in my hands, the door stays closed, and the house stays dark. I'll probably stay frozen here until death decides to claim me, I have nowhere else to go, and nowhere would I like to be. I watch the sky from the window. I watch the stars and the moon. I count the lines in the wooden floor; I even try to synchronize my breathing and my heart.

He doesn't return.

The sun begins to rise, the color is just the way he likes it, yet he isn't here to admire it with me. He never will admire it with me again. No tears come, just an inconsolable heaving, and a soul-wrenching pain in my heart. I'm empty, deflated.

The sun rises fully and I grow hungry. I don't move I see no point; there is a gaping hole in my chest, what is the point of keeping up my strength if the pain will only strengthen with me? Carefully I set the mug down beside me and stare at my hands.

This is when he startles me. I have no idea how long I've been observing my hands yet suddenly he's there at the foot of the staircase. He's arms are crossed and he's staring at me, waiting.

I don't allow myself to look at his eyes; instead I look at his arms, and his shoulders. They're tense. He's mad.

I manage to make a strangled sound "Hi"

"Hi" he says with an unreasonable amount of serenity "I just came for some things"

I nod quickly, my eyes return to my hands.

He waits for me to say something, but there is nothing left to be said. After a moment he walks past me. I listen as he rummages about the house.

I stay seated with the cold tea.

I have no idea how much time he spends packing. Maybe hours, I don't allow myself to go up to him. Maybe he wanted me to follow him. I refuse to look at him. I refuse to make this longer than it has to be. I refuse to hurt him anymore.

Much too soon he's walking down the stairs again.

He surprises me when he sits beside me.

His shoulder lightly brushes against mine. I intently stare at my fingers suddenly I feel close to tears just because of his presence. I wish I could hold him, I wish I could beg for forgiveness. Yet I mustn't, there is no forgiveness for what I've done. I mustn't cry either, if anyone is allowed to cry it's him, it would be ridiculous to cry over something I did willingly, something I volunteered for.

I gulp harshly when he gingerly lays his hand on my knee.

"I'm leaving Katniss" he says softly "I'm moving into another house"

I nod violently, tears burning at my eyes "I understand"

"I'm sorry" he squeezes my knee.

Suddenly I'm appalled. He's sorry? How can he possibly be sorry? He's done nothing wrong! He's leaving me like he should. He's angry like he should be. How can he possibly be sorry? What has he ever done wrong in his entire life?

Without thinking I snap my head up and glare into his blue eyes, the tears I've been holding back fall "You've done nothing wrong!"

He removes his hand and frowns, clearly conflicted "It needed to be said"

I crumble to pieces as his eyes stare back at mine. They aren't cold like I hoped they would be, they're not mad, or frustrated, or even disgusted. They're just… hurt. So much pain stares back at me, he looks like he's been abused, like I've kicked a puppy. He looks so broken I can't help but feel a solid block of hatred for myself and everything I've done.

He scrubs his face and clears his throat "I'm sorry we've been reduced to this" He speaks with so much finality, so much authority I can't bring myself to question what he can possibly be sorry about. All I can do is watch as he collects the few bags he's packed and walks towards the door.

He pauses, his hand above the doorknob before turning around once more "I don't understand" his cheeks are wet "why?"

I stare at my hands again "I'm simply a terrible person Peeta. I destroy everything I touch"

For once he doesn't contradict me, he doesn't attempt to compliment me, and he simply nods as if soaking up the information "You could have just told me. I would have let you be"

I grit my teeth; I couldn't understand why I insisted on hurting him "I didn't think I would do it"

He shakes his head and smiles sadly "But you did"

I flinch, despite the truth to them, his words sting "I did. I'm sorry"

He motions with his hands, as if having difficulty to select whatever words he'll use next "Don't. Don't tell me you're sorry, Katniss. It's fine. So you had an affair. So what? All we have to do is separate and you can go back to doing what you were doing before, only now you don't have to hide it. I'll be fine, it's not like I didn't see this coming. It didn't make sense for you to want me, we're too different. I get it, I really do" he sighs loudly and nods, as if he's attempting to convince himself with the words he just spoke. He runs a hand through his hair before smiling at me; it doesn't reach his eyes "Good-bye Katniss"

But I don't want this! I want to take it back, I want for the last couple of weeks to have never happened, I just want to go back to us "Good-bye Peeta"

**Please review! I've been meaning to write this for the longest time, you have no idea. I'm an Everlak person, so try not to be mad, I'm doing something angst-y here! Tell if you would like more and I'll provide it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've decided to publish another chapter! I'm sorry if it is much too short and I hope it lives up to your expectations. IMPORTANT! Before you read I just need to say that I had no idea this chapter would go the way it did! Please do not despise me!**

"You really fucked up this time didn't you Kitty-Kat?" Johanna asks as she dips her finger into the ice-cream I was shamelessly eating out of the carton, she lays against my bed's headboard "you can't just go into self-destruct mode and expect nothing to happen"

I stare blankly at the laptop screen that lay in between our outstretched legs. Johanna had gone into crisis mode. She had brought all we needed to make it through the upcoming depression of being dumped. Only an hour before she had barged into my house with a jumbo bag of Cheetos, some sour cream and onion Lays, chocolate ice-cream with the chunks of fudge that I like and a DVD of the breakfast club. Despite the blatant cliché of her attempts it was helping, underneath her gruff surface she really cared.

"I know" I mumble around a mouthful of ice-cream, my eyes are still puffy from the fit I had just minutes ago, Jo had been obligated to stroke my hair. "It just... well, it just hurts like a bitch"

She nods in understanding unaffected by my utter failure in the usage of the English language "You had a relapse"

A relapse, that's what we had been calling it since the last couple of years I'd been with Peeta. It's something we'd been doing since we graduated high school. Johanna and I had a past, it wasn't a great one, it was nothing to be proud of but it had happened. Back when we were both the tender age of eleven my father had died, I had spiraled into darkness within myself and no one was able to drag me out of it. Not my sweet sister Prim, not Johanna, Finn, or Gale.

I used to lie in my room for hours, days, weeks, months. I couldn't help but feel empty, abandoned. I did try, if only for Prim, since our mother left us soon afterwards. The pain had been too much for her, my pain and Prims were suffocating her. I worked hard for my sister; there was nothing I wouldn't do for Prim. I worked three jobs; I tried to help her with her schoolwork, I paid our bills, I kept social services oblivious, I cooked cleaned and looked out for her. No one was allowed to be snide to Prim, if she had a nightmare I was sure to be there to comfort her, if someone was mean to her I taught her how to stand up for herself, if she was hungry I gave her my own meals and starved myself. If Prim needed something I would fetch it for her, no matter the circumstances.

I could only run like that for so long. I hoarded my feelings; I pushed them away for the sake of our survival. Johanna and I were only eleven and both facing our tragedy, our demise, our end. Johanna had been raped that year. She had been broken, ashamed and scared.

Both of us exploded at the same time.

It started off with a razor, just one cut. The pain was a release, we could finally let go, and we could finally allow ourselves to accept who we were. We were unwanted pieces of rubbish; we were placed on this world, this merciless cyclone. We were forgotten, we had no adult figure to care for us, and there was no one to remember us after we perished. We were nothing but wastes of space.

Prim had found us.

We had been in the bathroom; the cuts were much too deep. Prim didn't panic, she didn't scream or cry. She wrapped up our wrists tight enough to help slow down the bleeding and called Finnick. I will never forget the look in her eyes as she held the phone to her ear, that crystal blue piercing my very soul. She had been grief-stricken and firm. Pain flowed off her.

I then realized I couldn't kill myself, not when Prim was suffering just as intently.

Then Johanna, Finn and I switched coping methods. I needed to be there for Prim and I also needed to forget, I needed to let go of the disappointment, our crumbling house, our lack of savings.

This method lasted until Peeta.

We had been sixteen when we attended our first party. The three of us were broken beyond repair. Death followed me wherever I went, death was enamored with me. Johanna was a bag of parts; she was a jumble of broken pieces. Violence had married Finnick with enthusiasm; his parents had been shot in front of him at a robbery gone wrong he couldn't help but feel the need to realign your jaw every once in a while. The three of us had walked into the door of some football player's house and embraced our new life.

We had made alcohol a challenge, Finn could swallow vodka like water, I could take shots in quick succession and Jo could chug a whole keg of beer. The buzz cleansed us; it cleared our minds and allowed us to leave behind our entities of pain and suffering. Our cold bodies were warm for once, laughter came easier, and life flowed much simpler.

It all clicked at our very first party. It made sense to be at least five times over the sensible amount of alcohol consumption. It made sense to fuck some guy named Cato on top of the kitchen table. It made sense to pass out in the backyard. It made sense because I could forget; I could become this new person. I could cease to exist.

My name is Katniss Everdeen and alongside my best friends I eagerly became someone else. I became a slut, a whore, an alcoholic.

I would work hard to earn money for Prim; I would cook her dinner and send her off to bed. Soon I would find myself pressed up against the wall of a closet or maybe I was in some bedroom on my back, or maybe it was quick and happened while standing.

I think I even had sex with Finnick once, purely by accident. Both of us had been so incredibly intoxicated that we didn't realize that we had indeed fucked each other, not even while we were doing it in the back of a pickup truck.

Among all the chaos I had created for myself I still managed to find him. I still managed to stumble among my dandelion in the spring. Somehow I still managed to feel again only for him.

I had been working at the Diner cleaning up tables and whatnot when we met. We had already met before, back when I was eleven and starving to death he had offered me some bread with a kind smile. I had forgotten to thank him; after all I did notice that he had received a severe beating for his kindness. I still can't believe how I could forget to thank him, this wonderful man. Peeta had sat at a booth with a hot mug of tea and a club sandwich, he seemed to be intently focused on a pad of paper, and he hardly noticed me standing beside him.

"That's really good" I commented as I stared down at the sketch he was working on "is that your father?"

He was startled by the sound of my voice and quickly looked up at me, I had offered a sheepish smile "he does look like an aged version of you… so I assumed… I'm sorry, are you done with that?" I had fumbled with my fingers unsure of what to do with my hands.

His blue eyes seemed to have an odd power over me, I had never felt this absurdly insecure around a man, I was the master of seduction, and I called the shots when it came to the opposite sex. Yet at that moment a simple glance from him had me melted into a lump of nervous mush.

He smiled "No, it's alright. Yeah it's my dad, I just felt like drawing him." He lifted his eyebrows in an _Oh Well _matter "sure I'm done, you can take it"

When I had rung him up I couldn't help but purposely make mistakes, simply to stall him. It was completely out of character for me, since when did I get this affected by a man? He was a complete stranger! Why couldn't I just pretend to be a normal human being?

Because I was in love with him, I had loved him since I first lay eyes on him.

And now here I lay after a relapse into my violent sexual hunger without my dandelion, without hope, and with a lot of ice-cream.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" I mumble waving my spoon in the air.

"I think it's up to bread boy now" Jo looks at me sadly "he's either going to forgive you or he isn't"

Yet the answer is clear, he isn't. Peeta isn't about to forgive me and he shouldn't. He hadn't done anything wrong, he hadn't messed around with my feelings, he hadn't treated me like the whore I was, he hadn't even asked how many guys I had slept with. He just accepted me; he treated me like a lady.

And what did I do? I screwed some guy behind his back, real classy move Katniss, real classy.

I don't even want to remember who the guy was.

But of course I can't just forget. I can't just forget the look of pain and disgust he'd had in his eyes when I mumbled the words.

"Peeta, I slept with your brother"


	3. Chapter 3

**I believe that this update took much too long and for that I 'm sorry. I don't even have much of an excuse, you have the right to be mad at me.**

**This chapter is fairly short. Sorry.**

**So SOOOOO sorry :(**

* * *

Johanna had to go to work; I've been left to my own devices. Slowly I crawl away from my bed, leaving behind a waste land of melted ice-cream and crushed Cheetos. I'm a wreck. My curls are matted together in such difficult knots there probably isn't even a point in trying, my limbs are stiff, and my eyes are red and puffy, my throat dry from my shameful sobs and whimpers.

My phone buzzes and I reach for it.

_Reminder: Your anniversary is in a week! Six months!_

I throw my phone across the room, God, why?

My anniversary, half a year, only happy memories rush to my mind in an effort to harm me. I don't want to forget anything, instead of pushing my thoughts, the images away, I simply close my eyes lay back and let the memories crush me.

_"A dozen cheesebuns coming right up"_

_ I fiddle with my fingers embarrassed. I keep on coming to the bakery when I know he will be working the cash register. I had managed to become hopelessly enamored with him, all I knew about him was that his name was Peeta Mellark, he was turning twenty in a week and he liked the color orange. Should I feel weird about buying so much bread? Does it make me look fat? Oh God, _am_ I fat?_

_ Wait, What? Since when do I care about my weight?_

_ Apparently since about today._

_ He frustrates me; he doesn't seem to be as interested in me as I am about him. Well, that's probably no surprise. I've been passed about too often; he seems to be a good guy maybe that puts him off?_

_ Should I do the move? The one where you innocently bend down for a second too long to see if the guy peeks at your boobs?_

_ No that's just plain desperate._

_ What if it works?_

_ What if it doesn't?_

_ If it doesn't he's obviously gay._

_ Or maybe he just isn't into you._

Katniss _I hiss at myself in my mind _get it together.

_I square my shoulders and breathe deeply; my grey eyes follow him as he sets about collecting my bread into a small brown bag. He hums softly under his breath to some song that's playing softly in the background. There is a really old radio behind him; it looks like someone hauled it all the way from the '70's without much delicacy. My attention quickly leaves the radio as he turns to look at me._

_ My heart literally stops, God what is wrong with me?_

_ Well he is staring at me quite intently, maybe I'm just surprised._

_ A part of me laughs at how naïve I am._

_ "So I'll see you at the diner?" his lips twitch slightly with the hint of a smile._

_ "Same time as everyday" I hand him a ten "God I love cheesebuns"_

_ He smiles now as he produces my receipt "I can see that, what is this the seventh time you've bought a bag twice in a single week? Should I be proud of my handiwork?"_

_ I blush, yup I'm fat "Yeah you should, you can bake _and _paint? How many women are you planning in putting into a swoon-induced coma?"_

_ Whoa, maybe a little less forward Dumbass?_

_ He laughs and I sigh in relief "Just the right one I guess"_

Remember to breathe _"Someone better warn her before something happens"_

_ "Well, I'm warning you now" He grins._

I'm sobbing like a child by the time I manage to shut my brain up. My fingers reach for the abandoned Cheetos; it's time to return to my world of shame.

"Alright Kitty! Come here!" My eyes snap up in utter shock as I feel my body being suddenly lifted off the bed. The smell of chlorine from the pool he frequently visits announces him, Finn.

"Cheetos" I mumble helplessly as he removes me from my room and down the old rackety stairs. When Finnick intervenes you know you are about to embark on a permanent change. I wish I could crawl into a dark hole and never return.

"No" he says with such an authority that feels foreign coming out of his lips. Finny was always playful and supportive. When he and Johanna were working me for something he was always the good cop, what's happening?

He sets me down on the kitchen counter and stares at me with a hard expression, his green eyes make me feel small, and I shrink into myself.

Here in District twelve, the outskirts of the major city, The Capitol, the neighbourhoods really suck. The houses are old and terrible, and the rent is unreasonably high. I'm still looking over my finances, I'm considering hauling Prim and I into an apartment closer to the city, maybe District four, where people were less assholes.

For now I just want to be in my room, with my Cheetos, and my memories.

"Well?" Finnick motions with his hands impatiently "go ahead"

"I'm sad" I stare at him feeling lost "I'm just so sad"

He puts his warm hands on my shoulders and squeezes them reassuringly "I know that, but that's not what I'm asking about"

I frown "Then what are you asking about?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes "The _plan_ Kitty! Don't tell me you haven't thought about it yet! You haven't, of _course_ you haven't" His face gets serious "Katniss we need a plan for you to get back together with lover boy before your anniversary! We _have_ to! If we don't then love is just a big joke, and we're all dying alone"

I only hiccup in return, tears running down my cheeks.

"I'll fix this!" he announces, right fist in the air.

My sobs turn violent and I drop my head onto his shoulder and pull him close with my arms "h-h _he _used to say that"

He embraces me in return, running his hand up and down my back as if I really were a cat "Shh, it's alright, if we make up a plan we can have him saying that again in no time."

I begin to cry hard enough to force the devil to pity me.

* * *

Finnick managed to calm my crying to an ever present whimper. He set me down on my lumpy couch and put on the news. He offered to order Chinese; I shook my head. I can't eat, ever. He sat beside me and kept me company; he knew that I didn't like mindless chatter. Instead he attempted to silence my whimpers by running his hand up and down my arm; he knows how to calm me.

"You'll be alright. Soon he'll be back, all we have to do is explain what happened to him" Finn says softly as he rubs small circles across my back "It'll all be alright"

I pop some skittles into my mouth, if I wasn't fat before this break up I'm surely on my way to obesity "Can we not talk about…. About what happened? I'm not mentally prepared to talk about it yet"

I look up and find Finnick watching me, he smiles and nods slowly "Alright Kitten, what do you want to talk about"

I grin despite myself, probably resembling a toddler "Peeta"

"What about him" Finn pops a few skittles into his mouth.

"Did I ever tell you about the first day I ever saw him?" I squirm until I find a more comfortable position on his lap "It's a great story"

"Here we go again…" Finnick feigns annoyance.

"It was a rainy day…"

_ The storm beats down mercilessly. A few houses had lost their roofs and some people had to flee their homes all together, since many collapsed from the flood. District Twelve isn't exactly the best neighbourhood. There isn't that much money invested in the repairs of the city, which lead to the inevitable existence of large potholes and improper water filtering systems, which during such a storm as this one were necessary._

_As a starving eleven year old I now a few things, weather such as this one is not very good for dumpster diving. The rains power is too much for my frail form. Yet I can't bring myself to stop searching trash cans, I have no other options. Prim and I are borderline homeless at the moment, all the money we have must be used for this month's rent. That means that our cupboards and fridge are bare. I need to get us something to eat before one of us drops dead._

_I stumble blindly down a lone road. All cars are parked in their respective driveways, no one is insane or desperate enough to travel in this weather; it would be too much of a death wish._

_I've grown awfully tired, maybe if I just sat, rested for a while. Then I'll be able to get some food, and then I'll be in peace._

_Shakily I crawl towards an apple tree, slumber searching for me. A slumber that is so deep, so permanent. The slumber of the dead._

_There is shouting somewhere far off. That of a woman, I think she's demanding I leave her property, not that I care. Even if I could bring myself to open my eyes properly I wouldn't give a damn. Let me die in piece._

_"Hey"_

_My eyes snap open as a burst of energy runs through me at the sound of such a gentle voice. A boy sits beside me with concern etched around his heavenly features. His hair is positively drenched and water is collecting in heavy drops on his golden eyelashes._

_He's breath taking._

_"Hey, are you alright? Please don't close your eyes." he reaches to his side. My eyes fall on the leather satchel he's pulled towards himself. Swiftly he opens it and digs through it._

_"I didn't have much time, my mother… well she tried to stop me. I hope this will help"_

_He pulls out something made of thick wool and gently pulls it over my head and lets it fall down my shoulders. It's a large hoodie, the thermal ones. It allows feeling to renter my fingertips._

_"I-I" I shake my head vigorously, yet the boy stops me by laying a hand on my shoulder._

_"Just take it" He slings the bag over my frail shoulders "There's some breath there. Its hearty and should help. I hope this is enough"_

_If I were capable of producing tears I would be in hysterics._

_He smiles warmly at me "Now, go. I'm sure you have someone waiting for you"_

I'm pretty sure that was the day I fell in love with Peeta Mellark.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again! I hope you like it!**

_**Please don't leave me, baby  
please don't leave me yet.**_

**_Sitting in a box away from the world out there_**  
**_a world piled high with boxes just like this_**  
**_but please don't ever leave me alone in here_**  
**_take me out, shake off the dust, shake off the fear._**

**_Please don't leave me, baby_**  
**_please don't leave me yet._**

**_If you stay with me_**  
**_that don't mean we gotta stay the same_**  
**_if you stay with me_**  
**_well baby, you and me we'll change the game_**

**'The Riff' Dave Matthews Band.**

**I don't own the Hunger Games.**

* * *

Eventually Finnick does coax some food into my system. He lets me ramble about my wonderful ex-boyfriend knowing his memory isn't always painful; his memory fills me with ridiculous happiness. Sure I miss him, sure the mere thought of him makes my heart twist but he's still Peeta. He still represents utter safety in my mind.

I see him everywhere and I can't help but point it out to Finnick. Doesn't the left over fried rice remind you of his hair when it got wet? Isn't the newscaster's shirt the exact shade of his eyes? Doesn't the irregular thumping of the rain sound like his footsteps? Is it just me, or does that pillow smell like him?

I may sound like a lunatic but Finn doesn't say anything about it. I don't know much about break ups but I do know this, I can't help myself. He really is everything I see. I see him on the pattern in the carpet, in Finn's whistling, and in the left over water in my cup.

He is everywhere.

I'm in the middle of insisting to Finn that the kitchen _does _indeed smell like him, can't you smell that cinnamon the dill? When the phone rings, he cradles the receiver with his shoulder as he helps me clean up the kitchen.

He sighs "Yes but you need to be delicate with her… I- Uh yeah? Hmph. Fine go ahead. Screw this up and I'll kill you, you hear me?"

He motions for me to take the phone 'Haymitch' he mouths.

"Uncle Hay" I say with faked enthusiasm "If it isn't the families greatest drunk!"

"Hey sweetheart" he mumbles casually "how are you?"

I sigh and leave the room, Finn looks after me with a concerned expression. If there is anything I'm sure of with Haymitch it's this, when he uses that tone he's all business.

I'm in for a free therapy session tonight.

Once I find a nice closet to crawl into I open my mouth once again.

"I wish I were dead Haymitch" I say truthfully as I press my back against the closet wall "I wish I could end it, I'm just in so much pain"

"I've been there" he admits "The darkness is all consuming"

I shut my eyes tight and flinch when my voice wavers "Yeah"

"Listen, I'm going to go straight to the point here. I'm no good with feelings and you know that, that was my brother's thing; all I know how to do are military strategies. But I did promise your father something before he passed, and I stick to my word. So you have no choice but to let me help you"

I shake my head "how will you help me?"

"You do need to tell someone what happened right? All the horrible parts, no judging, no feelings will be hurt. I cannot be offended you know?"

"You're my uncle, I'm not about to tell you in detail how I screwed my boyfriend's brother" I make a self-righteous sound "you should know better"

"I'm not asking about that, you know what I mean. The way your father died… well you're expected to be damaged"

I take a moment to breathe "Fine. But you don't get to say anything about this"

"Understood"

* * *

"It isn't your fault you know" my Uncle says as he sits across from me with a hot mug of black coffee held tightly by his gruff fat fingers "none of what happened is your fault"

"Peeta or my dad?" I mumble as I play with the pancakes on my plate. We're in a booth in the IHOP.

"Both" he nods roughly. That's the thing about Uncle Haymitch, everything he does is rough around the edges, every word and move is harsh. Expected from a retired Navy Seal like him, except that today he's making an effort to be gentle, he hasn't made a single sarcastic remark the whole day.

He's been treating me like a porcelain doll ever since my tearful confession on the phone.

That very day Finnick was ushered out of my house by my determined Uncle, who has taken it upon himself to 'talk out' my extensive mental trauma and emotional issues. Yippee.

Maybe he's onto something, after all my father did suffer a terribly slow and painful death at the hands of leukemia, I was suicidal as a young girl, I did sleep around with men that treated me like dirt, and I have a weird urge to go into self-destruction mode often, hence the Peeta incident.

"How is it not my fault?" I stab at my pancake with a fork, I watch the syrup glide off it, fascinating "the act took two people"

"One of whom didn't exactly consent sweet pea" he says softly and reaches to squeeze my hand.

I resist the urge to snap at him. Instead I close my eyes and attempt to control the sudden shaking that's taken over my scarred body. I start breathing through my mouth as a wave of nausea hits me. I don't want to talk about that, I don't even want to think about it.

"Uncle Hay" I squeak through clenched teeth "change the subject please"

He squeezes my hand once more before releasing me "Let's talk about Primmy"

I let out a breath of relief and open my eyes, I'm sure a new light makes them twinkle "She's getting so big! I don't know what to do, next thing I'll know she'll be getting married and having kids"

Haymitch chuckles "I used to say the same thing to your father when he'd send pictures of you with his letters. I left when you were but a bundle of a screaming little thing and I came back to an annoying as fuck six-year-old" he shakes his head "No wonder I went back for another ten years"

"You _loved_ me" I smirk "I was adorable! I couldn't even pronounce your name!"

"Yeah well now I'm stuck with this" he motions towards me and snickers "Now what?"

I bark a very unladylike laugh that makes me snort a little "Well, you're no prize either"

"Thank you, I've been working extra hard to make myself unappealing" he motions to his ever growing belly "this is what keeps women like that Effie Trinket from crawling all over me"

I laugh loudly again and feel tears running down my cheeks. It's true, Effie Trinket, the most annoying receptionist in the planet, is head over heels for my Uncle. My Uncle is a simple man; therefore he likes his women simple. Effie is the polar opposite of that, what with her ridiculous pink hair and claw-like nails.

That's why Haymitch is secretly in love with my best friend, Gale's, mother Hazelle.

It's supposed to be this big secret, but I won't be surprised if the whole city of Panem knows.

I remember that every time Haymitch came to check on Prim, Peeta and I Peeta would always shout 'When's the wedding? I got my eye on a tux rental place!'

God I miss him.

"So, you'll be twenty in a month, how does that feel?" Haymitch reaches over to stab one of my pancakes with his fork and shoving it down his throat. An entire pancake, ugh.

"Meh" he raises an eyebrow "I'm not exactly in the greatest of moods"

He waves his fork dismissively and begins shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth "The boy will be back by then"

"Don't underestimate him" I snap coldly "He may be kind, but Peeta _can _hold a grudge. God, he hasn't spoken to his mother since he ran away from home at sixteen. That was four years ago, _four_!"

"With good reason"

"And this _isn't _a good reason!" I raise my voice and feel some people in the restaurant turn to stare "He hasn't spoken to his father either you know? And he actually _likes _his dad. There is no hope! Let's just give up now, while I still have my dignity"

Haymitch surprises me by slamming his fist against the table, making both me and our utensils jump "Dammit Katniss! Don't think like that, I won't allow it. It's forbidden. You better shallow your pride and tell the damn boy what actually happened, he deserves to know. You love him, he loves you. How hard can this whole thing be?"

I glare at him, yet tears continue to roll down my cheeks "he deserves better"

He sighs and scrubs his face briskly, he scratches at his patchy stubble "Why would you even think that? No one is any better than you, understood? Stop treating yourself like crap"

I glare at him some more before stomping away "I'll be in the car" I shout before slamming the restaurants door open.

* * *

I remember the first time I ever told Peeta I loved him.

It hadn't been the nicest day. As a matter of fact, the weather was crap. We were in his crummy apartment since my houses heating system had unexpectedly shut down and we were in for a blizzard. Prim was asleep on the couch with us, all of us wrapped tightly in a cocoon of blankets and fluffy pillows.

I was in Peeta's lap as he absentmindedly stroked my hair. It was late, past midnight and we were watching some _Project Runway _reruns for no real reason. Peeta would insert some random comments that would make me laugh since he always made up the funniest voices to go with them.

It was the perfect night.

He was in the middle of poking fun at this young man who was having a little breakdown over the time restraints he had for whatever project he was doing when I blurted it out.

He frowned, the nasally voice he had adopted gone and replaced by the usual deep rumble of his original voice.

"What was that baby?"

I gulped and looked up into his eternal blue eyes. I really could stare at them for hours. I loved the way they brightened near the pupil, I loved how they shifted with his mood, and I loved how much love he had in them.

"Peeta Mellark, I'm very much in love with you" I grinned.

He kissed me hard enough that the words to 'Take My Breath Away' suddenly made sense and decided to play within my mind.

Now, I wonder if I ever am in his thoughts. Does he think about me as often as I think about him? Does he feel weird every time he watches _Project Runway_ late at night? Does he miss me at all?

It's raining again tonight, Prim's fast asleep in my bed as I lay here thinking about him. She had refused to leave my side, and for that I'm grateful.

As quietly as I can manage I crawl out of bed and out the door. I know it's stupid, of course it is. But it's late, I'm lonely, and they're playing _Project Runway _reruns again.

I sit on the kitchen floor with the phone in my hands. I stare at it for a while, he's not awake. I know he isn't.

So I call.

It rings once.

Twice.

Three times.

I'm actually shocked that he answers.

"Hello?" his warm voice sends an electric shock running from my hairline to my toes.

What do I do now?

I hear a television in the back ground and movement. He yawns "Hello?"

I hold my breath.

"I have caller ID" he says evenly "I know it's you Katniss"

I squeak but I'm frozen, I can't hang up the damn phone.

"Do you want to say anything to me?" he snaps "you're the one that called"

I'm silent.

"I'm not hanging up until you say something" he grumbles stubbornly "it's your decision"

I take a deep breath "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you"

"Well you did" he snaps.

"It's three in the morning, I meant to get your voice mail" I sniffle "I-I"

"Yeah, yeah" he says coldly, sharply "what do you want, Katniss?"

"I-I don't know" I whisper.

"Do you want me to hang up now?" he sounds frustrated.

"I-if you want to?" I'm crying, goddammit I'm _crying._

"Actually, I want _you _to hang up"

Dammit.

I don't think I could feel any more hated in my life.

"Are you still there?" I think he sighs.

"Uh, Yeah?"

"Alright" he sounds so very patient, like an adult dealing with an unruly child.

"I'm sorry I called" I mumble.

"Its fine I guess" again he sounds so unaffected.

"I'm hanging up now"

"Go ahead" he encourages.

I hesitate.

He sighs "I'm watching that stupid show too"

Now I hang up, quickly.

* * *

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